


Remembering

by Nelioe



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Loss, Memories, Past Character Death, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelioe/pseuds/Nelioe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the quest has ended and Erebor is reclaimed, a letter reaches the Ered Luin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought about throwing a bit sadness in here, after the idea for this one shot attacked me out of the blue.

 

 

When the letter arrives Dís’ hands are shaking and she has to sit down, her fingers are still wet from doing the washing up and smear some of the ink, written on the parchment in a neat handwriting she knows far too well.

Her thoughts wander, while her eyes read the letter again and again, as if they could find a hidden meaning behind the words if she just looked close enough. She remembers finding out she was pregnant, remembers Vali’s blatant joy, hearing he was about to become a father. She remembers her fear at feeling the first kicks, thinking something was wrong and the relief and affection spreading through her body, when a healer explained what was truly happening. She remembers holding Fíli for the first time, still exhausted from the birth, but unable to take her eyes off the most beautiful being she had ever seen. She thinks of the burden on her heart lessening, feeling as if the wound deep inside her chest, sitting there for so long she’d come to believe it to be a part of her, healing a little with every passing day. She remembers the ache leaving completely on the day Fíli called her _mama_ for the first time.

She remembers the wound returning, when news of Vali’s death reached her. Remembers trying to be strong for Fíli and staying healthy for her husband’s last gift growing inside her, while all she wanted to do was to lock herself up in her bedroom and cry until the world ended. She remembers almost failing, listening to healers talk that a baby born so early couldn’t survive. She remembers Thorin’s strong arms holding her, giving comfort she so desperately needed. She remembers following every single one of Óin’s advises to keep Kíli in this world.

She remembers winning. Sees her youngest smile at her for the first time, hears his squealing laughter, feels his weight in her arms as she holds him, singing a lullaby, while her other hands strokes Fíli’s hair, his small head resting on her thigh as he sucked on his thumb in his sleep.

She feels the wound heal once again.

She remembers watching her sons grow. Remembers Fíli crying, when she scolds him for not sharing his toys with Kíli. Remembers him struggling with the burden Thorin had laden onto his shoulders with the promise of future kingship.

Remembers fighting with Kíli, their hot tempers colliding, screaming and hurting each other, both of them too stubborn to apologise after calming down. She remembers Kíli breaking the icy atmosphere between them every time, coming to her with a hug, asking her for forgiveness in his own way. She remembers never breaking, though.

She remembers being hardened by their escape from the dragon. Remembers Thorin crying, when her older brother thought no one could hear him, remembers vowing to herself to be strong for her family, to push the weakness away, to be an anchor for them, even though she couldn’t always stay true to it.

She remembers the wound infecting her chest after losing her brother and grandfather. She remembers Thorin’s broken eyes and his apologetic expression.

Dís feels regret now, for moments she had acted cold instead of forgiving. When she had expected too much of Fíli. When she should’ve apologised to Kíli, instead of forcing him to cling to her in desperation.

She regrets not stopping them from leaving for Erebor.

She misses the time Kíli’s giggles echoed through the house and Fíli stealing all the cushions and blankets to build a fort in the living room. She misses Thorin’s content smile when he smoked his pipe, sitting in an armchair in front of the chimney fire. She misses seeing her brother sitting between Fíli and Kíli and telling shining children’s eyes stories of Erebor.

She misses the quiet pride on Fíli’s features, whenever he was praised and succeeded in a difficult task. Misses Kíli’s excited babbling at new achievements. Misses Thorin ruffling through the boys’ hair and laughing, laughing in a way he had only just begun to relearn again after Fíli’s birth. Dís had believed it to have died with Frerin, but it had merely been buried under sorrow and was lured out again by the smiles of two young boys, who might never understand that their existence had saved their mother and uncle.

She misses them. Misses her protective older brother. Misses her strong and kind Fíli. Misses her untidy and fun-loving Kíli. She misses her sons. She misses her family.

Dís reads Balin’s letter one last time.

The wound in her chest has returned, but this time no one is there to heal it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
